


Counting

by ArgentShiroi



Series: Love to hate you [1]
Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Common Cold, F/F, Love/Hate, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentShiroi/pseuds/ArgentShiroi
Summary: Sniffle. Calculate to seven. Sniffle. The chain of torture was only broken when Carmelita sneezed or blew her nose.In other words, Carmelita caught a cold and it's driving Neyla insane.





	Counting

**Author's Note:**

> I made a list of tropes I have read and was surprised to realise that I haven't written of them. I'm working slowly on that list.
> 
> I started this as cute little oneshot that was supposed to end earlier… and with Neyla being just a little shit. Naturally the story evolved and I may have enough material to finish a role-revelsal sequel. Anyways, if you're looking for a sickfic with TLC, this isn't it.

Paperwork was one of purest forms of torture. Neyla was bored out of her mind and the stack of papers hadn’t thinned at all. She had been reading the same paper for at least half an hour. She could understand words but the meaning behind them eluded her. She sighed in frustration. Only four hours to go…

At the desk next to her, Carmelita sneezed for 78th time. Neyla had been counting as it was quite distracting. She may have missed few sneezes during the lunch break, though. The vixen blew her nose, sighed and tossed the tissue to the pile of used tissues looked a bit like a mountain. Or maybe the tower of Pisa, being just as unsteady.

A trashcan was just few feet away but, apparently, the distance was too great for the great nth generation police. Neyla didn’t remember nor care how many generations of Fox family had been working in the same police force. Maybe she couldn’t understand those odd family professions.

As minutes passed, Carmelita kept sniffling in every few seconds. The tower of Pisa grew taller and morphed into a mountain.

“How about you go home to nurture that cold of yours? That sniffling is annoying,” Neyla huffed. She didn’t particularly like Carmelita and the damn vixen drove her up the wall. Neyla had spent the whole day just listening sniffling and had begun to anticipate it. It was horrible.

Sniffle. Calculate to seven. Sniffle. Over and over and over again.

The chain of torture was only broken when Carmelita sneezed or blew her nose. Which, now that Neyla thought about it, seemed to _also_ follow a pattern. Well, mostly. She _really_ didn’t need to think about it.

“I’m fine,” Carmelita almost barked between sniffles – she would probably have done it if her sore throat hadn’t reminded of its existence. Now, her voice was only weak and hoarse. Even Neyla winced at the sound.

“I have seen corpses that look less like death warmed over,” Neyla scoffed. Couldn’t Carmelita be little less stubborn? Though, Neyla had to admit – much to her embarrassment – that she kind of loved to see the vixen so vulnerable and out of it. It wasn’t some stupid I-feel-like-I-should-protect-her -crap. That was more Sly’s style.

Neyla just loved to see Carmelita helpless, being complete mess when she was sick and her body wasn’t obeying her. She couldn’t describe the feeling at all but she felt great. And best of all, Carmelita was totally annoyed too.

What the heck was wrong with her? She didn’t see herself as a good person like Carmelita or even Sly Cooper. Those two were more black and white while she saw only different shades of grey. But feeling satisfied when her partner was obviously suffering through one hell of a cold? Even Neyla herself thought that it was twisted.

Carmelita glared at her. Neyla stared back, refusing to give in. In less than half a minute, Neyla saw how Carmelita was struggling to not to sneeze. It was funny. How the prideful inspector rubbed her nose and kept sniffling while she tried to look intimidating. Hitching breath and widening eyes told that Carmelita couldn’t keep up much longer.

She didn’t. That was number 79.

Neyla grinned when she finally won and got up. She walked to the small kitchen and prepared tea. Mostly for herself – she really needed a cup of strong and sweet black assam to calm down and not grin like it was Christmas. When the water boiled, she filled the pot and grabbed two mugs.

She heard few more sneezes in rapid succession (80, 81 and 82) that left her feeling oddly warm. The miss Perfect wasn’t perfect after all. When she returned with two cups of tea, Carmelita looked even more miserable with wet eyes and red nose. Neyla handed one cup wordlessly to the vixen. Neyla could understand why everyone else stayed away because the cold looked quite potent.  

“Thanks,” Carmelita muttered weakly, her voice congested deliciously. She must have felt awful because she was being polite. Neyla was smirking. Really, annoying the vixen seemed the most enjoyable option. 

“What’s wrong, Foxy? Feeling a little under weather? You said you’re fine just five minutes ago,” Neyla teased.

“I - _ah-_ am fine,” Carmelita said before she sneezed again. That was 83 rd. This rate the vixen was going to go over 100 sneezes in one day.

“You really should go home, you know. I bet you haven’t done anything today.” It wasn’t true. Neyla knew that Carmelita’s day had been more productive workwise but she just couldn’t resist annoying the vixen.

Carmelita scoffed, “What? Afraid you catch the cold?”

“So you admit being ill?” Neyla gloated. Carmelita just scowled.

“It’s just a cold. It’s not stopping me from finishing paperwork,” Carmelita muttered after few seconds.

“It’s still annoying me,” Neyla lied easily.  

“Cry me a river,” Carmelita scoffed. Her breath hitched helplessly again. Neyla watched it with great interest. Carmelita just was there, weak and unable to breathe properly. She moved fast; grabbed a tissue and sneezed into it several times.

Neyla knew that the vixen should probably be resting but she didn’t suggest it again. After all, sneezes 84, 85 and 86 had left the inspector quite obviously powerless and Carmelita might do as she suggested. Neyla was sort of dazed, looking at the sick inspector. Not that it mattered. Carmelita was too busy with uncontrollable sneezing to notice Neyla’s distraction.

 

**

 

“Eat,” Neyla commanded an hour later and dropped the container of soup on the pile of paper on Carmelita’s desk without spilling much. It was lunch break and she had sent an intern to run her order of soup and sushi to the nearest so called Chinese restaurant that sold all kinds of Asian food. Most of dishes there had nothing to do with China, though.  

“Are you trying to poison me?” Carmelita asked sceptically.

“Why would I?” Neyla asked incredulously. “You acting like you don’t have a horrible cold is more entertaining than paperwork.”

“What a relief. I thought you were oddly nice but you’re just being a bitch. Shouldn’t you just run away before you catch this?” Carmelita asked curiously and swallowed a spoonful of soup.

“Please, I could kiss you and not get ill. I have an amazing immunity system,” Neyla laughed. It was true. She hadn’t caught anything in years. Cold season knocked almost half of the police force every year but never her.

Carmelita just shook her head and muttered something about her intelligence. Neyla glared at the fox. It was obvious taunt, wasn’t it?

Without pausing to think, Neyla took two steps. She was standing in front of the vixen and pressed their lips together. When Carmelita didn’t protest, she pulled the vixen closer. It took some coaxing but eventually Carmelita kissed her back with same intensity.

Like pretty much everything, kissing was a game of power and dominance. Yet Neyla was thrilled. For a moment, the word was spinning and everything was hazy _except_ Carmelita. Hot ache burned all over her body and Neyla realised that she may have made a _sligh_ t miscalculation. Kissing wasn’t supposed to affect her this much!

At some point Carmelita pushed her away and turned away to sneeze few times. The vixen pressed ruined tissue against her nose and gasped for air. Neyla had never felt more powerful and in was intoxicating. She wanted more.

Before Neyla could claim the vixen again, someone knocked the door and entered without waiting for permission. The chief looked at them disinterestedly. “Fox, I need your report on Cooper gang’s latest movements on my desk today.”

“R-right, s-sir,” Carmelita stuttered, sniffling again. She cupped her hands over her mouth and sneezed trice as the Chief closed the door.

      (Neyla had lost the count.)

“I- Finish your soup and get better so we can go to field. I hate paperwork,” Neyla struggled to speak coherent words, panting heavily. Mentally a small part of her was panicking because she had just kissed the Carmelita Fox and when the vixen digested the fact, she would surely try to kill Neyla.

Thoughts of fighting with Carmelita didn’t calm Neyla down at all. Quite the opposite. She needed a cold shower _right now_ or she might just have her way with the vixen in the office.

“Yeah, right…” Carmelita sniffled, equally dazed. She was about to say something when a pair of sneezes cut her words short. “When you get sick, just remember that you had the marvellous idea of kissing me.”

Neyla just rolled her eyes and drawled: “I didn’t notice you complaining when you were shoving your tongue in my mouth, not that I’m complaining. And, as I said, I don’t get ill.”

 

Famous last words, though neither knew it just yet.

 

Well, Carmelita kind of did…


End file.
